


Sucker

by mamalorian



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Car Sex, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Human!Baby Yoda, Mando!Cop, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Sex in a Car, Single Parents, Slow Burn, Uniform Kink, babysitter kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamalorian/pseuds/mamalorian
Summary: Alternative Universe - Mando! CopSingle dad Din Djarin just wants to raise his son and mind his own business.He didn't ask for his best friend, Cara, to insert herself into his non existent love life.He didn't ask to be stuck on a blind date with some crack pot that Cara insisted he take out.He damn sure didn't ask for his non verbal son to form an attachment with his interim babysitter, Syra.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Character(s), Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Character, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 76





	1. Dazed

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see where this goes. I like the idea of Mando!Cop wayyy to much.

In a small town like Navarro, multiple roles might be a necessity for an officer. Sometimes an officer might run patrol, some might have to assist the barebones fire department and some get saddled with running the radar on the slowest night of the week. Its Tuesday, the sun already dimmed in the distance. Din settles harder into the bike’s seat and fights the chill from the desert winds coming in. 

Why did he take Cara’s shift? Probably because she promised to watch the boy this weekend and she just knows that while Din adores his son, he also needs his precious alone time. 

Sucker. 

He’s trying to fill quota; it’s the end of the month and they get most of their funds for the department from clocking speeders on the highway leading into town. He’s hunkered down near the “Welcome to Navarro, the town of many faces!” sign when he hears a faraway growl. 

Tucking his head down, he listens hard. Muscle car, the familiar whine of supercharger as the car shifts into a higher gear. With a sudden realization, Din realizes the car is steadily gaining speed, and with the sound of performance at its finest, the car screams by him. He barely has time to clock it, 83 in a 65 before he drops the visor on his helmet and slams his lights on. 

He pulls the bike out onto the barren roadway and hopes that this son of a bitch doesn’t plan on making a run for it. It’s too cold to be flying on a bike, chasing some bro around in his daddy’s money muscle car.

Brake lights shine before him and the car makes a slow roll onto the side of the road. It’s not until he stops that he stares hard at the shape of the tail lights. Mustang –  Foxbody to be exact, and if there’s any indication by the rumble loping under the hood, this car has some money put into it. 

The tag sparks a sense of amusement in him, SNKEBIT, it reads in the large cap letters and he takes note that  it's out of state.

Sauntering up to the window, pad in hand he pursues the exterior of the car. It’s primer gray, sanded down hard in some points, and looks to be in mid restoration. 

He taps the tinted window with the end of his pen and makes a motion for them to kill the engine. There’s no way they could hear him over the loud grumble of the motor. He feels a pang of sadness when it dies out.

The window rolls down and he’s in mid “Good Evening, do you know why I-” when he snaps his mouth shut. Of all things he expected to be driving its definitely not this. 

“Hi!” She chirps, a little breathless and staring back at him with alien blue eyes. She’s a tiny little redhead, sharp fox features that catch him totally off guard. 

“Hello, Ma’am. Do you know why I pulled you over?” 

She smiles, showing him a gap between her teeth.  _ Cute _ , he thinks. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see you back there Officer....”

Din clears his throat. “Officer Djarin.”

“Right! So, Officer  Djarin , I  definitely didn’t see you back there.” 

He gives a quiet mhmm. “Do you know how fast you were going?”

She gives him a speculative look. “Not really, the clusters been acting up recently. It’s on the long list to fix, if you can’t tell.”

“It’s a nice-looking car. Your dad’s?” He asks briskly. He can’t help himself; she doesn’t look old enough to be out of high school much less have a car with easily a couple grand under the hood.

“Oh, no sir! It’s mine.” Another beaming smile. “I just finished the engine swap yesterday. Had some issues with the wiring harness and the bellhousing on the transmission. I was trying to stretch her out and make sure that I could get it in 5 th gear.”

He hums again, trying to remain serious with the girl. “And if I hadn’t pulled you over?”

She laughs, and it’s a husky sound that doesn’t suit the way she looks, it sounds more adult and sensuous. “Oh, I dunno. I probably would’ve easily gotten it up and over 100 mph out here. This is a good stretch of road.”

He gazes off into the distance. She’s right, and he’s guilty of getting the bike up to non-legal speeds out here before. Not like he would admit that to Cara, though. “I appreciate your honesty, Miss..?”

“ Syra ,  Syra Beto. Here’s my driver's license Officer.” She hands him the paperwork, and Din thinks she looks a little pouty. 

“Insurance?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer. She graces him another smile and Din shakes his head, dropping his gloved hands to his hips.

“I’m sorry! I just finished the car yesterday, like I said and I hadn’t had the chance. Truthfully, I’m headed into Navarro to visit my grandmother, she just out of the hospital. Insurance was the last thing on my mind, sir. I would so appreciate if you could let me go with a warning, pretty please with a cherry on top?” She’s making praying hands and  full-blown pouting now, and the force of it makes his chest tight.

This girl is by no means a traditional beauty, but right now under the stars he thinks that she’s possibly the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. He’s easily twice her age.

He takes a quick glance over her driver’s  license...

Syra M. Beto

DOB – 03/20/1993

Hair Color – Red

Eye Color – Blue (Piss poor description, Din thinks.)

Height – 5'0 

Weight – 122 lbs

Organ Donor

“You 26?” He asks, incredulously. He’s starting to think this is a fake ID now.

She shrugs. “Good genetics?

He’s quiet for another moment, before he asks. “Who’s your grandmother?”

“Maz Kanata. I’m sure you’ve been by the Diner before?” Her tone sounds so hopeful. 

Shit. He can’t ticket Maz’s granddaughter, she would probably spit in every pie she made him if so. 

He gives an indignant sigh. “Alright. I’m  gonna give you a warning - “

“Thank you! Thank you, thank  you, thank you Officer  Djarin .”

He points at her, “But! If I find out that you aren’t Maz’s kin or that you don’t get insurance in the morning I won’t be thrilled about letting you squeeze by on this one.”

“Thank you so much. I owe you my first born!”

He chuckles as he writes out the warning, “I’m good on that one Ms. Beto. Raising one of my own now.”

Din tears the ticket off his booklet and pretends not to see the gratitude shining so bright from this little ray of sunshine. “I guess that I’ll just have to hand deliver some cookie from Maz on your birthday then?”

“Miss Beto, just do as I ask, please. No more speeding either, I don’t want to have this conversation again.” 

Jesus, he sounds like her Dad for Christ’s sake, and he’s suddenly grateful that he hasn’t removed his helmet, just left the visor open so that she can’t see the blush staining his cheeks. He needs to get laid.

“Ok, ok, ok. I swear! Pinky promise?” Her petite hand slips from inside the car, pink finger extended. 

Din tries to hold back his grin when he curls his finger around her own. He lets go with great reluctancy, and WHAT is he doing he is a 40 something year old man making pinky promises with a girl who wasn’t even born when he shipped off with the army. He gives her the documentation back and a whiff of grease and perfume fill his nostrils. Who knew that this was such a wonderful combination?

He slaps the top of the car and tries to sound authoritative. “Keep this beast in check, young lady.”

She gives him a proper salute, and the engine fires up as he backs away. She hasn’t pulled out onto the road and he has a suspicion she’s probably texting her friends. Letting them know that she’s managed to bat her lashes and get out of a ticket again.

When he cranks the bike, she pulls out and eases onto the road and his suspicion turns to something else. “Shit...don’t you dare, kid.”

The tires balk on the pavement and she’s off, no doubt already pushing 45 or better. She’s still speeding off, but when he raises the radar, she’s smoothed out to 55 and staying steady. He laughs under his breath before riding out behind her heading into town. 

He’s kind of glad he took Cara’s shift now.


	2. Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I suck so hard at dialogue...

Din & Cara meet at Maz’s Diner the next morning, when his shift ends and right as Cara is about to go on patrol.

She’s already waiting for him, in their customary booth, smirking down at her cellphone. There’re several plates of food littered across the table, and he’s abruptly thankful that Cara ordered for him ahead of time. When he sags into the worn and cracked leather seat, one of the part time waitresses is already there pouring him a cup of coffee.

He’s been coming here since he started with the Department 11 years ago, fresh out of the army with an honorable discharge.

“Get any customers last night?” Cara  inquires , never looking up from her phone. She’s been doing a lot of internet dating recently, and when she’s not working, she’s glued to the damn thing. She’s also been trying her hardest to get him to download an app called, ‘Tinder’. He tells her that between the Boy & work, this is all the gratification he needs. 

“No tickets, wrote one warning though. S’got some money under the hood. Clocked it at 18 over.”

Cara’s looking at him now, with a raised eyebrow. “You let him walk at almost 20 over?”

“Let her off with a warning.” 

Interest peaks behind Cara’s dark eyes and she drops her phone onto the battered table. “ _ Her _ , huh? Did she promise to polish you off  or  something?”

Din scowls at her. “No.”

Cara laughs and leans back, crossing her arms. “Oh, please. Do tell then.”

“Said she was Maz’s granddaughter. You know how well that would have gone over.”

“Was she hot?” Cara asks with her trademark shit-eating grin. 

Din tries to remain indifferent and shrugs his broad shoulders. “ M’sure you’ll see her around town.”

Cara slaps the table. “Oh no, no, no. I want to hear it from you Mr. Cool,  C alm & C ollected.”

He feels his forehead pinch in frustration and clams up instantly at the sight of Maz drifting closer to them,  a sly smile gracing her wrinkled face. He scoots over so that she can ease into the booth next to him.

“Nice to see you up and moving around Maz. How you feeling?”

She scoffs and waves a hand absently, “Just a little fall, nothing major. Don’t know why everyone insists on treating me like I’m made of glass.”

“Maz, you know that you’re our best girl! This town would be lost without you.” Cara’s trying to schmooze Maz into another stack of pancakes by kissing ass. Maz seems to think so too, and gives a look that would make most people wither.

“Speaking of best gir l... I heard that you pulled over my favorite granddaughter last night, Din.”

He’s trying to swallow around the bacon, throat suddenly dry when Maz barrels on. “Also heard that you let her go, with just a warning even though she didn’t have insurance and was going well over the limit. Not to mention you never ran her information or tag.”

Din takes a long drink from the  scalding coffee. “Sure did. Told her to stay out of trouble when I found out she was one of yours.”

Maz laughs softly and leans her elbow on the table and asks in an amused tone “Did you know that her license is suspended?”

The coffee goes down the wrong way and Din is sputtering and trying not to choke while Cara watches on,  and  clearly, she’s enjoying this. 

“Maz, I let her go on account of your relation. If she’s driving around with a suspended license that means she won’t get insurance because they require a valid DL. Now we -”

“Oh, hells Din!” She smacks his arm. “I’m just messing with you. That child has managed to get out of every speeding violation. That Katana charm is genetic, no?” She bats her lashes and her tone is playful, and suddenly Din sees where the  family  likeness is. 

“She’s a good girl, really. Genuine & sweet, but she’s got a wild streak a mile wide. She gets that from me.”

“That explains the car, then.” He comments mindfully.

“Good mechanic, that one, and looks like she’s going to be sticking around for a while, so maybe you should take some time and get to know her Din? I  know she would love to see that Oldsmobile of yours.” Maz trails off with a secretive smile and his posture stiffens.

Cara preens and Din kicks her under the table, sending her a look that he hopes reads –  _ Knock it the fuck off, Dune. _

“Haven’t messed with it in ages, been so busy with the  B oy.” He hopes to garner her sympathy, and he just feels a tiny twinge of regret trying to use his adopted son as a shield.

“You were complaining about a misfiring cylinder. I already mentioned it to her and she’s willing to take a look for you, out of  _ gratitude _ . She likes kids anyways, Din.” He hears joints pop as the elderly woman stands up. He opens his mouth to protest, but she slides him a look that makes him clam up quick.

“I’ll leave you both to it then. Think about it Din, I want my granddaughter to feel welcome in this community. It also wouldn’t hurt you, or that son of yours to have a little female influence around. ” She briefly narrows her eyes and he must admit, he feels a small bit of intimidation.  Cara dips her head at Maz as she steps away, barely concealing her laughter.

“You  wanna make a bet?” Cara asks, and before Din can open his mouth to respond, she keeps going. “I bet that some of Maz’s famous sweets will make their way to the department. She’s not going to take no for an answer.”

“I’m not interested in any ‘Female Influence.’ I’m not interested in dating, or downloading any hookup apps. I’m not interested in bringing someone into the kid’s life that has no intention of sticking around.”

He gets a sympathetic look for that one, so out of character for his longtime friend. “Din, you know that I respect you for stepping up and adopting Ad’ika. I'm just saying, maybe take some time to enjoy yourself outside of being a Dad & work?”

He doesn’t respond, chewing thoughtfully and staring out into the new morning. He’s convinced himself that he has no time for self-indulgence, since he brought the  B oy on. Why does everyone keep trying to interfere with it?

Cara stands, slipping her phone into her pocket as she goes. “I bet you that Maz sends her precious granddaughter to you like a lamb going to slaughter. If I’m wrong, I’ll take all your weekend shifts for the next 6 months. If I win, you let me set you up on a date with someone, ANYONE for Christ’s sake.”

Din grunts under his breath. “Maz knows and respects that I value my  solidarity . You think that I can be plied so easy? Sweets won’t change my mind on this.”

Cara shrugs and drops a $20 bill on the table between their plates. “I think that a pretty mouth would make a man do just about anything.”

******************************************************************************** ********************************************************************************************************************

Before Din knows it, its Friday morning and he’s preparing to work a double shift. Cara’s got another date, this time with a woman who works in the Courthouse right down the hallway. She’s pretty, but demure and he knows that it won’t end well. Cara’s tough, and someone who doesn’t have enough backbone to tolerate her brashness will crumble under the weight of Car’s tenacious personality. 

A sharp whistle catches his attention and he tip his head up to see Cara practically skipping across the tiled floors, headed his direction ,  helmet in hand. She drops it on her desk and leans over his desktop to whisper covertly, “Make sure that you keep your schedule open t omorrow  night. Also, I was going to ask if you prefer blondes or brunettes, but I’ve got my answer for that now.”

He quirks an eyebrow, about to inquire _what the fuck are you talking_ _about_ when he hears their part time desk girl/dispatcher talking excitedly and headed in their direction. 

She rounds the corner, with a short girl following close behind and Din suddenly has no feeling in the tips of his fingers. He unconsciously stands to observe the girl as they get closer ;  she’s taking the station in and doesn’t seem to really be listening to anything the dispatcher is going on about. 

Seeing her like this doesn’t feel as intimate as being alone with her on a dark road, but looking at her in the daytime is striking. Her red hair is up in a high ponytail and most of it has fallen around her face, and the scattered freckles stand out like stars in the sky. She’s dressed in plain, ordinary clothes; but the way her jeans cup her hips and that black long-sleeved shirt wraps around her slender waist,  immediately  makes his mouth dry. Din notes a tattoo peeking out from below the collar of her shirt, and across her arm there’s a dark blotch of gray that he didn’t notice that night. 

She’s carrying a cookie plate in one hand, clutching it close to her chest like it's the most precious thing in the world. She’s ushered over to Cara first, and he catches bits and pieces of the conversation because he’s too busy taking her in. She looks  slight next to Cara, but shakes her hand with an iron grip that makes both of them laugh. 

Din clears his throat, more or less to get his heart back into his chest where it belongs. “Trying to resort to bribery, Miss Beto?”

He’s suddenly pinned under her unique gaze; she has the most bewildered expression and her cheeks are pink. Gods, this girl is cute. 

They stare at each other for a moment before she gives a broken laugh. “I’ll have you know, people come from far & wide to get Maz’s cookies. You should feel special, Officer  Djarin .” Din realizes that she seems sheepish, maybe because of the stretched silence. 

Little does he know,  Syra’s reeling from the sight of him, sans helmet, with his uniform stretched tightly across his shoulders. She’d seen his kind eyes, and the lines surrounding them, but not the angled cut of his jaw or plush mouth –  _ GOD she’s probably blushing like crazy damn her complexion _ – or the typical law enforcement mustache he sports. Altogether, he’s smoking hot in the unattainable DILF way -  _ is that even a thing? s _ he thinks. Boy, she is going to be wearing out Porn Hub ‘hot older cop’ search tool later.

His lip quirks up on one side. “I’m honored.”

**OHMYGODHESSMILINGNOWKEEPCALMDUMBASS**

She reaches out and shakes his hand, and he wants to comment on her strong grip but he suddenly gets the feeling back in his fingers because it's like he’s got his hand wrapped around a live wire. Electricity rockets down his hand and all the way up to his shoulder blade and he has to fight not to jerk away rudely. The look on her face probably mirrors his own. 

“Oops! Sorry, here, these are yours!” She’s fumbling over the words and holds the plate out to him, almost like a peace offering. He takes it gently, and smacks Cara’s hand away when she greedily reaches over. “These are MY bribery cookies.” Din deadpans and it earns a laugh from  Syra , a husky musical sound that certainly doesn’t fit her appearance.

Cara’s making a face before she steers her attention back to the smaller girl. “Guess I’ll just have to get some of my own then, hmm?” It’s a flirty tone that he hears Cara use often when they are out at one of the local bars.

Syra flashes Car a coy smirk. “You’re in luck, Officer. I just so happen to like brunettes."

Din doesn’t have the helmet to hide his blush this time, so he turns away and pretends to be consumed by paperwork again. He’s vaguely aware of the two, chatting loudly behind him and Cara’s  g uf faw at something  Syra whispers furiously to her. 

He checks his dive watch, and rejoices in his shift time arriving. It’s a good excuse to get out of the station, because it's like his  feelings are too big for this room. He’s strapping his side arm on when he catches  Syra watching him from the corner of his eye.

A bright blush consumes her features when she realizes that she’s been staring and she takes a step back. “ I, uh, better get going. Mimi told me that there’s a couple garage’s here in town that might let me use their paint booth. I’ve got some scouting to do.” She shakes Cara’s hand again and they exchange pleasantries, and he’s glad that his hands are full  because she settles for giving him a little wave, darting around the neighboring desk and headed back to the entry way. 

Din’s resolve breaks. “Ms. Beto!” He calls out, and feels bad when she jumps a little, before coming to a halt. 

She holds her hands up in mock surrender, and laughs nervously. “I got the insurance last night, I swear!” 

He shakes his head, biting back a grin. “There’s a garage, just a couple blocks from here. Motto’s Motors’; Peli’s who you need to see. Tell her I sent you, that I’m cashing in my favor.”

Syra blinks at him, mouth opening and closing a few times. “Thanks Officer? I guess I owe you one.”

“At this rate, Ms. Beto, seems like  m’gonna have to start a tab for you.”

She purses her lips into what he is assuming is an amused smile, which he returns and he can feel Cara’s eyes drilling a hole in him when the younger girl vanishes around the corner. 

“What?” He grouses.

Cara has that look on her face, the one that means she’s trying to figure him out, but it honestly reads more like she’s constipated. “Be at  Mal’s tomorrow, around 8. I’ll make sure this one has red hair.”

He flips her the bird.


End file.
